I never saw this coming. If you’d told me five days ago I’d be doing this, I might have laughed in your face. What has happened? Well, it all started when Jasper showed up. He came out of nowhere, dropping soundlessly from a tree as if he’d just strolled up to me for a visit, as if he hadn’t been gone for five days. I was surprised – I hadn’t recognized his scent. Automatically, I found myself doing something I never thought I would do: looking into my brother’s eyes and feeling relieved not to see any red there.
His gaze was dark, desperate, pleading; he smelled of blood and humans, his own scent almost completely hidden by something I could only identify as medical. The clothes he wore were torn and stained, unrecognizable as the outfit he’d had on when he left, feet bare. “Where the hell have you been?” I couldn’t stop the question any more than I could stop my arms from reaching out and pulling him close. “Everybody’s been worried sick!”
Jasper smiled wearily, a small chuckle dying in his throat. “Peter, I have two favors to ask. Please…help me rest.” I tensed, knowing what my brother was asking. Many vampires bring extra abilities with them into eternity. I happen to be one such being. By maintaining physical contact with any subject, mortal or immortal, my victim will grow tired. The longer my hand rests on them, the more tired they will grow. Humans can slip into a coma after they’ve naturally fallen asleep if I wish it. At one time, I accidentally knocked Jasper out with a concentrated dose of this power – there was talk of brain damage afterward.
This was a serious request Jasper was making. We had a long-standing moratorium regarding our powers. We simply didn’t use them on one another, yet here he stood asking me to do precisely that. I’m sure he sensed my hesitation and knew I could only be grateful that he didn’t do anything to change it. “Peter…please.”
“Alright. Wherever you want to go. What’s the second favor?” I was instantly leery, wondering what had changed my brother’s scent, what had prompted him to ask such a thing of me. His smile grew, almost becoming a laugh. “I’ve…got a story to tell you. I want you to write it for me.” He went on explaining in his quiet voice, saying he wanted the story of wherever he’d been to be put up some way that would allow him to share it with his coven – he said “with my family” – without having to repeat himself. As I stood there, listening, drinking in the familiar cadence of his voice, I understood he wanted it to go through a second set of ears before presenting the tale to the rest of his coven. Perhaps he wanted to make sure he would be believed.
That is what got me here, sitting in a hotel room, typing with one hand. My other hand is resting on Jasper’s shoulder, keeping him out – the closest to true sleep any vampire can ever get, I’m sure. Once he wakes, I will begin transcribing his story, just as he requested. Charlotte is here to serve as a mediator. As Jasper put it, she’ll be “keeping [me] honest” and be sure I remain as invisible as possible. The following is my brother’s story, not mine. As soon as he has finished telling it, I intend to hand-deliver him back to Forks, directly to Dr. Cullen and his wife.
Jasper, if any being but you had asked, the answer would’ve been no. You owe me.
- Peter Devereaux
